Intoxicating Virus
by bogglewoolf
Summary: “Spock.” His composure threatened to crumble. He was undone. Should she touch him once more with those tiny, trembling brown fingers he would unwind completely." Nyota is infected with a virus and Spock becomes jealous. Yes, jealous.
1. HAILED

"_Bones, cover my rear." Captain James Tiberius Kirk addressed his chief medical officer and best friend, while suggestively patting his bottom and pretending to intently scour the desert, squinting, shielding his eyes with his hand against the afternoon light._

"_Cover it yourself, you damn provocateur." Bones grumbled half-heartedly._

"_You know I don't even know what that means!"_

"_Oh Jesus Christ."_

- - -

The U.S.S Enterprise had been on a return trip home when Chekov had detected a strong atmospheric pull hailing the ship. Sulu had attempted to reset their course direction in order to avoid adjacently passing by the planet, which so allured their starship.

"Lets get outta here and go home." Kirk had ordered. After about a minute and with the Enterprise, if anything, closer to the planet, Sulu had swiveled to face the captain's chair scratching his head. "Sir, it appears that the ship has been captured in an outer-orbit ring. I cannot find a means to retract us from this position. Orders?"

"Just land the thing."

"Just land the thing, Captain?"

"Yeah. We'll prowl around and see what this is about."

"Captain, I do believe this would be unwise." Spock stood from his desk and turned around, his hands clasping behind his back and shoulders erect, posture impeccable. "He is regal." Uhura thought, inwardly drooping as she sighed. Spock's eyes met Kirk's and they were both glad to be friendly.

"Yadda yadda yadda, risk and danger and preparations. We'll land, put on our protective gear and check it out. Worst-case scenario, we'll have made a short detour en route home. We'll set phasers to stun, kill if necessary."

"Captain-"

"And this could be the draw of a stranded ship." Kirk jerked his head to the left to pleadingly implore Chekov to agree with him, or in some way support him. Kirk distorted his handsome features into the saddest, most heart wrenching puppy pout he could muster and Chekov melted like soft serve in August.

"Commander, ze keptain iz right. It is our duty to investigate all planets and zis could be a loop call, a pull designed to force us to land; it iz not very kind as we have a current mission to complete but zese sheeps have no respect for common courtesy-"

Spock cleared his throat.

Red faced, "It could also be a trap. I believe zees should be factored into any decision making." Chekov rushed through his ultimatum, embarrassed at himself. He always seemed to demonstrate his age. Whether it was in the mess hall, spilling chowder all over his jumper before Uhura, or his inadequacy at holding his alcohol with Bones in the makeshift bar, "The Enterprise Waterhole!"(Constructed much to Uhura and Spock's chagrin and Kirk's enthusiasm, "Everyone aboard this ship needs a drink or four!"). He often wound up on the floor, or in his bed with no recollection whose turn it had been to cart him there.

He turned back to his work.

"You see Spock? It's our _duty. _We can't warp away, literally we are unable, and abandon a possible people on this planet. It is not Starfleet's way. Lieutenant Uhura-" He turned his back to Spock, addressing his beautiful, Swahili xenolinguist princess; be damned if he doesn't get her first name someday!, She turns away from her panel, dark mane swishing behind her, gorgeous eyelashes devoid of cosmetics, more becoming because of it, and eyes clear, sharp. So intelligent she was, he felt blinded often, a rare flower undeserving of his roguish tactics; Kirk admits he's shallow. He rips beautiful flowers from the soil, grows tired of its beauty, and walks further along until he finds an even more beautiful flower, twice as perfect as his previous conquest and the new light of this brilliant plant erases any feeling for any of the, now dull in comparison, buds. Needless to say, due to his disarmingly handsome looks he's popular with the ladies, but only the ones he hasn't met yet.

He kept himself at a distance from Uhura. Not that it was difficult.

"Uhura, care to join me?"

"Not if you had the power to singlehandedly fill each orifice on my body with acid should I decline."

"Uhura, have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"I'm incredibly sorry to have to beg off, but I'm grooming my cat that night."

"Animals are prohibited on this ship."

"Apparently not as one stands before me." Touché. But these brush-offs only endeared her to him ever more, made him want to take her, to have her….

"Yes Captain?" Her voice yanked the cord from the projector and the images halted. She waited patiently.

As patiently as possible when dealing with him, of course. She knew when he appraised her. His eyes left the bridge, left her behind, far beyond ambition. She could see him peeling her revealing Starfleet Uniform from her eager frame as she ran her fingers across his scalp, acknowledging the goose bumps she had created, the power she held. She knew that he often thought of her and the impossible conquest when he stared lopsidedly out the view screen and into the depths of space. She knew all this and allowed it. Played no part in it save her own unwilling appearance, but she gave him these thoughts, these dreams. She called him back to her and tried waiting patiently.

"Lieutenant, do you detect any transmissions surrounding Planet X?" Uhura clacked and clicked and used her thin fingers to push her earpiece closer to her ear and chewed her lip. "_She ought to have the volume increased." _Spock thought.

"Negative, Captain. It is silent. Even our own transmissions seem to be dampened." Kirk turned his back to her and scratched his chin.

Spock was decidedly disinterested in the whole affair. As he spent more time among humans, he slowly began to override the immediate response trigger. Kirk's complete lack of regard for regulations made his quotations useless. No, he did not cite regulation #24567: "Any undetected pull in gravity must be reported immediately to Starfleet. Await arrival of Starfleet Officer. Do not approach planet, moon, or star until further instructed." No, he did not mention this. Instead, he looked at Nyota as she wistfully watched Kirk.

"We will be landing on this planet within the minute, Captain." Sulu reported. "We have landed." Sulu blessed the man who had called in sick the day the Enterprise had answered a distress call from Vulcan. He had previously been assigned the U.S.S Andromeda; not a bad ship, but not the best, as he felt he deserved. Hell, Sulu played it cool. He knew it. Psshhhhh, black hole sucking him in? He's on it. Scary, Romulan dude attacking him with a sharp primeval sword? Fencing training saves the day. Fencing had been a mandatory extracurricular and he was thankful for it now. "I'm not cocky." Sulu thought to himself as he adjusted the speedometer, "I'm just self aware."

"**APPROACHING PLANET X. LANDING TIME 30 SECONDS."**

Spock finally escaped from the bridge after much harassment from Kirk. He briskly reached the end of the first hallway and abruptly entered a small storage closet. He turned away from the door and the slits permitting him a glimpse into the sterile corridor and exhaled. He had been holding his breath all morning, a human idiom. Not literally, of course, for if he were to do that his consciousness would allow him only four minutes before his body slackened, his eyes closed, a thunk would sound as he hit the linoleum, he could possibly obtain a head injury and be taken to the medical bay where he would be forced to rest for at least three days; he meant the phrase to be an "expression". Spock's demeanor was still sober and dry; the changes within him were barely noticeable to the naked and untrained eye. His fatigue and frustrations had possibly become more apparent……..

"Captain, do not approach this planet without the blessing of Starfleet Base. It would be most unwise."

"Commander, chill out."

"I am not chilled."

"I can see that."

"You ordered me to chill. I can place myself in a freezer and allow my blood to crystallize and air flow through my body to stop if this will aid our ship in any way."

"Don't be melodramatic."

"Landing on a planet whose inhabitants we are completely unaware of is not the logical choice. This is an impulsive decision which could potentially place the entire bridge in danger. You more than anyone ought to know that the safety of the crew is the top priority." Spock's dark eyes flicked to Nyota's. She caught his gaze levelly. She licked her lips and held his now stare; the appropriate time for an accidental brush of the eyes had been bypassed by two seconds. The corner of her lips tugged up and he looked away. She was reaching out to him in response to his own gesture. He worried for her, illogically, and she read him clearly. He pulled his jacket sleeve down uncomfortably and Nyota knew she had broken through his tight-lipped, buttoned up representation. Uhura knew he was awaiting the proper release, which when released she understood could be anything but proper. She could be the kink in the machine, opening the floodgates; chaos always presents itself packaged in disarming beauty. She craved her vision of an animalistic Vulcan.

"Sir, ze planet atmosphere contains a much higher level of nitrogen, veech iz deadly to humans. Tests are currently underway and within ten hours ve vill safely have the "ok go!" Chekov excitedly reiterated, whirling away from his station. Chekov was proud to provide this information after his wish washy dictation earlier. He smiled brilliantly, clapping his hands together, bopping his head and Kirk bit his tongue from complaining about the wait time. Yeah, he was bummed to be on the ship with virtually no tasks for ten hours. Then again, since he, and the rest of the crew operating from the bridge, were irrelevent to progress, he might wander down to the Watering Hole and get a little drunk. Maybe convince Uhura to walk him home, feign wasted and really lead her behind closed doors; Captain to her greatest fantasies.

Uhura coughed.

"Ok gang. Your all dismissed. See you all back here in approximately ten hours!" Everyone shuffled out to sleep or drink or make love or do whatever it is they do when not working. Uhura and Spock clasped hands when they reached their own hallway. Giggling, Nyota pulled Spock to herself and kissed him deeply, suggestively, and shut the door.

**I feel something great is going to come out of this story. I spend great deals of time rewording, empathizing with my characters; this story is my baby. The greatest reward, besides my own pride, is plenty of reviews. So please do just that! I always respond and I love debating and conversing with you guys! Always open to writing together too. Please read on and review……**


	2. UNDONE

**CHAPTER TWO**

**Fifteen minutes before entering the mediation room/broom closet:**

Spock had stood and approached the Captain.

"Captain, I am requesting a ten minute leave of absence from my post."

"Granted." Spock nodded and turned.

Kirk playfully said "And what, may I ask, are you ditching your lovely and adoring crew to attend to my dearest friend?"

A longish pause.

"It is…personal." Kirk was intrigued. Spock had to abandon his post for something personal?! Holy shit! What could it possibly be? In the entirety of Kirk and Spock's tumultuous relationship, Kirk had not a single time seen Spock leave a minute early. It seemed to be his human frailty. Certainly pride was a human condition, but he had never suspected Spock to be one to fall victim to its grimy undertow. Kirk recalled the long twelve-hour shift eight weeks ago. Spock had stumbled onto the bridge, no joke, looking completely dazed and green faced, literally. "Vulcans can stumble. What a novel thought. What else is possible?" Uhura's mind wondered. He had wordlessly taken in his surroundings, as if surprised to find himself here in the workplace. He had dreamily nodded to Kirk and attempted to briskly walk to his station. Attempted. His foot caught and he stumbled. He had rigidly corrected himself, obviously mortified to be seen in such a weak state.

"Hey, you don't look too good Spock." This is Sulu, ever caring and forever stating the obvious. Uhura turned to shoot him a look as if to say, "_Do not discount the Vulcan. He is aware of his current condition." _He shrugged and mimed crying, then striking an imaginary nail with a hammer, then walking his index and middle finger over the fake bridge; "_Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it." _He winked and she sighed, a small smile gracing her lips at his joke. Sulu just appreciated a tense moment used to inject the victims of such moment with relentlessly inappropriate jokes and wit. He took great pleasure in illustrating the absurdity of events, which drew such attention from his friends. Sulu coveted his own mind, believed great things would spill forth from him, shearing open the belly of the accepted, allowing all things banned or discouraged to play.

"Spock, go lay down. Now." Kirk was reluctant to order the Vulcan to do something he had chosen not to do, but he also knew Spock probably wasn't thinking straight.

"I am fine." The words seemed watery on the man's tongue, they dammed up against his lips, blocking each others path on the way out, giving his words a near slur effect. Spock noticed this and did not attempt to speak further. He merely sat, hoping Kirk would accept the one sentence. He did not. He pressed the matter, as he had also feared he would.

"Alright, well, you've got me convinced. Obviously your fine! Please, as you were." Spock did not acknowledge he had even spoken, turning away halfway through Kirk's sarcastic comment. Kirk raised his eyebrows and pretended to gasp at his bold disrespect. Inside, he was giggling. He had never seen Spock so disorientated. It was pretty funny. He decided to let Spock attempt to do some work, which he knew would be impossible. He had decided to throw incredibly challenging tasks at him in order to force him into surrender.

"Spock, translate this Klingon transmission." The simple task alone took him two hours. Uhura watched him silently, worried. She could not understand why he did not rest, why being as insightful as she knew him to be he did not advocate for his own self-care. It frustrated her. She made no comment to Spock, wishing to punish him for his own neglect. Uhura watched as he tapped a button on his keyboard, slowly, nearly squinting. "What in the world is he doing?" She smirked as it dawned on her that he would otherwise miss the key he aimed to strike if he did not severely concentrate. Sickness affects Vulcans tenfold a human. They can catch only the most dangerous viruses, which while are not lethal, deem them nearly senseless. Their death perception is eaten away. They experience intense fatigue as compensation for the energy spent keeping their emotion in check. Sleep is also the only cure. The fact that Spock refused to do so only prolonged his suffering. Surely he knew this. She glared.

CLANK

Every set of eyes turned to Spock. He intently stared at his screen as if a huge disruption had not just erupted from his desk. If he could whistle he would, anything to alleviate the awkward silence. His eyes had drifted shut and his head had collapsed against his touch screen. Nine seconds eclipsed and everyone turned away. He quit listening to the same ugly, retched Klingon sentence and rubbed his temples. He did not go rest. He completed his shift, all his tasks, the three assigned to him (he normally completed up to thirty during one shift) and caught Uhura's eye. No compassion in her normally empathetic eyes. He loved her eyes, her expression, her emotion so readily put on the table for him.

"Shift change." Came over the intercom.

"Spock, go away." Spock had been blankly spacing out as everyone else evacuated the room and new officers filed in. Spock looked up at Kirk with unfocused eyes. He made an unintelligible mumble and went to stand and keeled forward. Kirk surprised, grabbed his waist and allowed Spock to throw his arms over his neck, miming a slow dance in middle school. "I cannot believe this is happening. Oh my god." Where's a camera when you need one? This was the most contact with Spock he had ever experienced. A light trickle of pain, frustration, and sleepiness filtered into him through Spock's fingers on his neck.

"I apologize for this breach of conduct." Spock groggily murmured into Kirk's shoulder. Uhura stood frozen in the doorway. Chekov dialed for Bones. Spock's grip on Kirk went loose and Kirk allowed him to slide gently to the ground. He slumped backward against his desk. Uhura appeared suddenly and her hands were all over Spock, feeling his warmth, his face, his hands. She took his hand and placed it against her cheek. Kirk sighed, "What a fucking hopeless romantic. Cute, but unnecessary. " Yes, he was feeling bitter.

Uhura's eyes fluttered. She gently took Spock's hand off her face. Spock blearily dragged his lids open. He met Uhura's eyes and nodded.

"He just needs to sleep. Medical assistance is not needed." Uhura looped Spock's arm around her shoulder. Ah. She had been peeking into his mind, seeing what he needed as he was apparently not cognizant enough to be coherent. He chastised his selfish thought during what seemed to be his First Officer's weakest moment.

"Come on, you idiot! I can't support him myself!" Uhura grunted as she struggled to help Spock to his feet. Kirk stepped forward and Spock placed his other arm clumsily around Kirk. They half dragged, half carried Spock to his bed. He remained pitifully silent but occasionally turned his head to try and nuzzle Uhura. It seemed in these moments he was conversing with her, the touch of their foreheads his only means of conversation. He felt guilty for being privy to these seemingly intimate acts of affection between the two. Uhura would laugh and tell him, "I'm staying. Don't worry." Kirk felt Spock wasn't even aware he was present. Spock would then let his head roll forward.

They removed his shoes and Kirk let out a bark at this. Removing a Vulcan's shoes, _Spock's shoes!, _seemed hilarious and absurd.

"Thank you Kirk."

"Of course, Lieutenant."

"I mean it."

"I know."

"I know he would be thankful, too. I doubt he'll have any recollection of this. Vulcans remove any memories of moments outside of their control so that their emotional capacity remains undamaged. But you are his friend and I know he cares for you."

"Cares for me? And here I thought he could feel only indifference!" Uhura laughed.

"That may appear to be true, but I assure he feels more than you or I am capable."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, that's so." Uhura and Kirk let out a small laugh.

A tender silence befell the two. Uhura's heart swelled with affection for her Captain. Kirk felt her appreciation and moved forward to touch her hand. Uhura looked at his hand and met his eyes.

"You can leave now."

"Gotcha."

Disbelieving, Uhura met the swish of the door shutting behind Kirk with a chuckle. That man was unbelievable.

She moved forward to remove Spock's shirt. He lay sprawled across the bed haphazardly, one leg hanging off the side. She lifted it up and aligned him in the middle of the bed. She touched his forehead, sending a message of adoration into the haze of his mind. She hadn't thought it had been able to make it through the fog, but then Spock had breathed her name, and she heard his bottomless anger at being an unwilling participant in this virus. She knew he wanted to push out the sleep he had been forced to dream. She lay beside him, hummed a light, Vulcan melody he had played for her. His mind quieted and she was fulfilled.

Yes, Spock did not ask for time off.

"As your Captain I demand the purpose of your time."

"As your First Officer I respectfully decline to answer and request anonymity as to my motivation for a brief pause in work."

Silence.

"Fine, you big secret keeper! The next time I do something suspicious and your _DYING_ to understand what makes me tick and why I do what I do, I'm not going to tell you! You'll never know. Ungrateful best friend… Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." Kirk muttered most of this to himself as Spock had begun to exit after he had spoken the word, "fine." Kirk glared resentfully at the head of black hair leaving his bridge before turning to Chekov and saying, "Do we have a music stereo in here?"

"Yez Keptain!" Russian concerto exploded into the soon to be bleeding ears of the U.S.S Enterprise crew. Chekov bobbled his head to the symphony, waving his hands around, following the riffs.

Bones entered the bridge. "What in the hell is this bullshit?" He announced. Chekov quickly shut it off and became as small as possible. Kirk sat down and Bones grunted and left. Uhura was not in the room.

Still in his closet sanctuary, Spock felt something. He felt worry. It hurt his heart and affected his work ethic. Uhura had not been at her station. An Orion had entered two minutes later than the second Nyota ought to have walked through the door. He had asked no one of her whereabouts as he feared that might suggest emotional attachment. He wondered if her absence had to do with his comments the previous night...

"_You believe we should share a housing complex." They were in bed together. Both naked, Nyota folded herself against Spock, head cocooned in his neck and his breath tickling her ear. Spock and Nyota thought to themselves, "This is happiness."_

"_Move in together, yes."_

"_For what reason."_

"_For the reason of my loving you. Why else?" She laughed and touched his cheek. He felt the feeling flow into him and rebelled._

"_A decision based merely on a fictitious feeling is not logical." It had escaped his lips before he could censor the words. _

"_You find love to be fictitious?!"_

"_My upbringing demonstrated this idea." Love" is an intoxicating release of endorphins which in turn causes important life turns to be made whim fully, and without consideration to the future." She appeared speechless. _

"_Whoa."_

"_Whoa?"_

"_Whoa."_

"_Did you expect more from me, Nyota?"_

"_I knew it to be foolish, but I did. Of course, I did."_

"_Nyota, I do not believe that I am capable of even identifying this emotion. What is love? Could love be the time I spend in your company? Could it be the music I play for you, and only you? I have kissed no one but you. What else is love?" He was curious. Nyota did not answer._

"_Your silence troubles me."_

"_Love is a confession of vulnerability. You can't give this too me. As a human I will forever search for validation through the love of others. A clinical human condition to put it logically. I feel like a failure because I do just that; I fail to bring out the emotions I know are buried deep inside of you. I believed I could melt you. You remain as steadfast in your vigilant exterior coldness as the day I met you. I can not do without returned affection, something I can feel." _

_He could not bring himself to say a word. His expression faltered and she reached for his hand. He made no response, no move to hold her hand. His eyes were trained on the wall behind her. She stepped back._

"_Spock." His composure threatened to crumble. He was undone. Should she touch him once more with those tiny, trembling brown fingers he would unwind and lay in a disarrayed pile at her feet, ready, ready to lap up the milk of her endless love. She did not touch him. She held her hand up to her face. She stumbled back another step. Merely watching him. He finally met her stricken gaze. His innards screamed at him, cut him up into ribbons, begged him to step forward, pleaded with him to confess it all! He displayed nothing in his eyes, trained them to lie dead and reveal nothing, his greatest asset a straight poker face._

_She turned and left. _

After she had departed, he had stood in the same spot in the center of the room for two hours. His meditation had begun the moment she shut the door. He had not been able to move himself. By the time the trance had been broken, he was at last completely detached from what had transpired between Uhura and himself. He logically evaluated what had occurred, weighing chance and odds. He decided to approach her the next morning. Something inside of him was aching.

Love. He did not understand her utter need for it; it compelled her to create this rift between them. Spock often wondered if Nyota truly understood that his emotions were out of his reach. As he had never lived with them fully, he did not completely understand what each felt like or how to even utilize them. He did not know love. If love was what he felt for Nyota, then he was in love. He failed to see the use of a single word to define a connection between the bonded. He cared deeply for her. He noticed her absences, longed for her company when she was away, thoughts of her drifted through him as the day waxed and waned; what more did she desire?

Alas, the next morning she had not been at her station. Kirk had given him a funny look when he had sat down. Chekov had raised his eyebrows and clucked sharply to him. Sulu had shaken his head without even looking away from his work. Scotty passed through briefly, in a hurry. He had halted before Spock, opened his mouth as if to speak, and had looked over Spock's shoulder to Kirk. He had spun away without any words exchanged and exited the bridge. Spock raised his eyebrow questioningly but no one provided any answers and if anything, seemed angry. All but Kirk. Through the reflection of his touch screen, he had witnessed Kirk use his arms to wildly drag his hand across his neck, "_Cut it out!"_ Spock swiveled in his chair and felt a deadening pull drag his navel to the floor. Spock felt overwhelmed. Emotions from last night were escaping the mediation circle and he could not focus on the task at hand. He had had to compose himself.

And here he was, hiding in a broom closet.

Spock looked at the darkness.

"Well." He said.

He opened the door and walked back to the bridge. The door whooshed open and he approached Kirk. Kirk knew immediately what he would say.

"May I request a word, Captain." Yes, he had known.

"May I suggest talking to that cute little guy over yonder?" Kirk, ever sassy, pointed to Sulu. Sulu sighed and turned around. He didn't want to have this conversation or walk where this was sure to head. Sulu stood and sauntered into the private briefing room adjacent to the main view room. He sat and Spock shortly entered and remained standing.

"Sit down, Commander."

"I prefer to stand."

"Very well. She is at the bar drunk."

"She?"

"You know who I am talking about."

"Do I?"

"Don't play dumb."

They were interrupted as the intercom yelled its message to the inhabitants of the ship; "**PREPARATIONS FOR EXPLORATION OF PLANET X WILL BEGIN WITHIN THE HOUR. DISCOVERY CREW BE READY TO EVACUATE IN ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY MINUTES."**

Sulu swallowed and turned back to Spock.

"She is not here because she is being taken to her room even now. Scotty just got her from the Watering Hole."

Spock sat. Scotty's bizarre behavior. Spock stood, nodded to Sulu, thanked him with a hand on his forehead, "Not good" Sulu knew as Spock's gratitude entered him, and Spock returned to his workstation. Two minutes later, Kirk placed a hand on Spock's shoulder.

"Get outta here, man." Spock got outta there.


	3. DRUNKEN

**CHAPTER THREE**

Nyota had gone to the bar at four. Work began promptly at six. She disregarded this fact and had slowly worked her way through seven beers. She had nursed the first, intending to go to bed. It had felt releasing, and the second had dulled slightly her unbearable trembling and pain at the events of her night. The rest just helped to hold back her epiphany. She took another swig at the thought, drunkenly sloshing Budweiser against her pajamas. She giggled darkly at the sight of the blue flannel. Hadn't these same articles of clothing been delicately pulled on her body by tender, Vulcan hands just hours ago? She had realized something earth shattering tonight. It was what had guided her to this barstool, what had coerced her hand into opening the Refridgeration Square and uncapping a cold beer. What had poured a shot of Grey Goose. It was blindingly obvious yet obscure enough to avoid being taken into consideration at the beginning of her courtship with Spock. It was what she had always hopefully ignored; Spock would never uncap the stopper holding back the flood of real emotion. He would never access love, attachment, passion. He would be doomed to forever live through curiosity and scientific learning. Her request to live together had apparently startled him into voicing his true opinion on the feeling love, one she openly valued and believed in. She had not been nearly as upset by his response to moving in together, but his reaction to what it suggested; mates. Eternal bonding between them.

"You're a real mess, aren't yah?" Nyota stopped her deep thinking and slowly looked in the direction of the voice. She just smiled, talking would be merely embarrassing. She felt light. She felt her cheek with her fingers; it felt like play dough, like something completely disconnected from her body. She fingered her lips and squeezed. They were barely there. The skin on her face felt like it was melting off, gooping beneath her on the bar counter. Hands grasped her under her armpits and she dozily leaned forward.

"Easy to work with, then! What did you go and do this for anyways, pretty girl?" She recognized that voice!

"Scotty!" Wow. Her voice felt droopy too, each word hanging off the last. "Scotty, I'm so glad to see you." She put her arms around her friend and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Scotty looked down on Uhura and inwardly cringed. He did not like this. Sure, he'd jokingly refilled her cup quite a few times but she had always known her own limit, never getting so blitzed she couldn't make her own way back to her room. She stopped at tipsy and warm and content and Scotty adored her. Not in the way he knew Spock or even Kirk, the damn fool, to crave her, but in a way that forced him to hover over her from a distance, motionlessly keep watch. So, seeing her so drunk, so out of her mind gone, he felt sad.

He put her arm over his shoulder and she resisted. He looked down at her. She looked up at him.

"Thank you." She said very clearly, the trace of a slur distant. He smiled.

"Always here for yah. I'll remind you in the mornin' you owe me a lunch, alright?"

"I want to go to bed."

"Ok honey."

They limped along at a snail's pace; Uhura nearly incapacitated now, her drunkenness reaching it's height as that one vodka shot caught up with her. It kind of hit her, suddenly, and with horrible timing.

Spock rounded the corner hurriedly and she slumped downwards and Scotty stumbled. The result was Uhura hitting the linoleum, Scotty landing nearly on top of her, bracing himself over her limp frame, and Spock lurching to a stop. Scotty's mouth hung open and Spock's expression did not change. Uhura groaned softly.

"Alright, there are several ways to interpret this situation and I swear it isn't the worst one."

"You are currently on top of Lieutenant Uhura."

"It appears I am." Scotty shot up and nervously chuckled. Oh shit. Now it would be his turn to be strangled and served side up like a tender steak. He waited for the shit storm to strike.

"I will return Lieutenant Uhura to her quarters. Thank you for your….help." The pause suggested Spock would never forgive Scotty for throwing his drunken girl friend to the floor with a smack. He felt awful, but instead of apologizing to the woman who had most likely not even felt it and the man who felt nothing, he saluted clumsily and turned on his heel, himself returning to work.

Uhura made no move to get up. She lay in the corridor, head turned to the side, hair over her face, in her mouth, her skirt hiked up high, one arm beneath her and one reaching up towards Spock. He stepped closer, and squatted. He picked the hair out of her mouth.

"Nyota."

"Mmmm." She smacked her lips.

"Nyota." He prodded her with one finger.

"Whaaaa?" She lifted one heavy lid. It slid closed again.

"Nyota, would you prefer to sleep here."

"Mmmm hmmm."

"In this hallway."

"…….."

"You wore the appropriate attire." He mused, fingering the flannel material of her shirt. He experimentally lifted her arm and let it drop. It hit the ground with a soft thud. Her breathing didn't even change! He had never seen Nyota rendered incoherently drunk. He was curious to the extent of her condition. He poked her arm, leg, and stroked her face, all receiving no response. A Cadet passed him in the hall, and started.

"Are you in need of assistance, Commander?" He hurried over.

"No, I have control of the situation."

"Spock! Don't you dare eat that!" Nyota exploded, sitting up suddenly. The Cadet jumped and caught her shoulders and pushed her up as Nyota leaned back again.

"Thank you, Cadet…."

"Smith."

"We will be fine. Please contact Doctor McCoy and ask him to report to this position."

"Yes, Commander."

"Oh, and tell him to bring Chekov's recipe." Cadet Smith saluted and marched off to do Cadety business.

Uhura was mildy awake.

"Why have you drank to this extent. You were aware of the effects of alcohol to your blood stream."

"Can't say."

"Nyota." Warningly.

"Don't fake this stupid concern. All these coupley questions and taking care of me." She rolled her head around and let it sink forward. Spock used his hand to push her head back. He did not like the crude language her loose lips spilt forth.

"What is it that I am faking?"

"Don' play dumb. Doing what we do does nothing. No love. See?" He did not. He made no sense of what she'd said and chalked it up to the alcohol. He decided not to engage in any more serious conversations until the shot had been administered. But he wondered one last thought aloud.

"Nyota. Do you truly believe I don't care for you?" He had heard humans were more truthful under the influence. He was merely testing a theory, right?

"Spock." She didn't answer. She just looked pitifully sad and he was horrifically taken aback. He had thought she'd known, she'd understood and accepted his affection for her in its forms; tea on her table, the kisses and the degrading yet empowering sex, meeting her eye while working. She reached her arms out for him. On instinct he leaned out of reach. They were in public. She stabilized herself with her palms shakily. She looked up at him in disbelief. He himself felt shocked and disgusted by his rebuttal. He reached for her and she jerked away, continuing to stare deep into his eyes, as if forcing himself to see his mistake.

"I apologize. We are under public scrutiny."

"Fuck you." And she promptly passed out. McCoy rounded the corner, lightly jogging.

"I've got the vial o' magic right here, Commander."

"Please inject her."

"Hold your damn horses, I'm a doctor not a machine! I got to prepare. Jesus. Everybody is always rushin' me." The doctor aligned the syringe and plunged it into the rubber head of a vial of purple liquid. He withdrew it and rubbed a pad over Uhura's arm. He did not ask the details of the situation. McCoy and Spock treated each other with coldness, a step above indifference and a step below distaste. They merely ignored each other to the best of their abilities. He did like Uhura quite a bit; he'd ask her about this after their trip to the unknown planet.

The needle broke her skin and her body appeared to lap up the purple mixture as it drained into her. Her body convulsed and her eyes opened wide, unseeing, her back straight, then she slid back into unconsciousness.

"There, give her bout ten minutes or so and she'll come round."

"Thank you doctor."

"Don't mention it." McCoy stalked off and Spock tasted something bad in his mouth.

**WELL MY PRETTIES? What do you think? Id adore reviews! I love interacting with you fellow star trek adorees? And also, I pose a question; when did your life become entangled with the lives of Spock and Uhura? And how many times a day do you think of them? Do you ever wish to be them?**

**I am curious. It is only logical. = ]**


	4. KIRK CONFUSED

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Spock blankly watched the particles of dust falling through the air. He found it oddly alluring to watch the specks dance through beams of light and shade. What little shade provided on such a brightly lit, nearly blinding ship that is. He wondered what the engineers of the ship so valiantly wished to illuminate.

"I'm embarrassed." He turned his head back to his lovely woman.

"Do not be. It is unnecessary."

"Still, my behavior is unjustifiable."

"I am coming to understand human frailties better with each day." This provoked a laugh.

"I was just frustrated with your incapability to treat me with the open affection I am accustomed to. I get that you aren't like other boys." Another laugh.

"That is true, but nevertheless, I do hope you know of my…deeply rooted attachment to you." Nyota smiled a lazy smile and her eyes shone. She was happy, wanted to sing and shout and tenderly caress his lips and rip his clothes off all at once. She dropped her hands to the floor. Nyota crawled towards Spock on all fours. He quirked his eyebrow and unconsciously tilted forward.

"Nyota, I don't believe-" She clapped a hand over his mouth and swung her head to the left and the right, found them to be alone. Her eyes glinted mischievously before she leaned and brushed her lips across his, not quite a kiss, but enough to motivate Spock to tightly pull her to him. He should not do this in the vicinity of his work, but OH!, she was licking the rim of his ear. He went in for a deep kiss, but she evaded him, playfully biting the tip of his ear, rendering him blissfully incompetent. She knew that was his weak spot!

Again, he attempted to instigate an intense kiss and again she dipped her head away, kissing his neck, his cheek, his ears, his eyes, his wrists, everywhere but the place where he greedily wished to devour her whole. And then she stood.

"Come on! We've got work to do. Can't spend the whole day wasting away on the floor." She coyly winked to him and he found himself completely shocked. He did not answer right away, mouth hanging open. He quickly shut it before sputtering and standing, "Uh."

Nyota was pleased to hear the word "Uh" slip out of Spock's mouth. It perfectly demonstrated her influence over him and she felt in control. Nyota 1, Spock 0. She knew she had done her best to avoid the elephant in the room. _Why was she drinking? Why had she done so and failed to report to work?_ So on and so forth. She did not want to talk. She just wanted what she had in front of her. It was enough.

"Prepare to set out."

"Oh, I'm prepared. I should be asking you! Are you prepared to face the unknown!?"

"It was just a formality."

"Who said I was kidding around, Bones?"

"God damn it. You always screw up my attempts to be professional. If it weren't for you I might be doing something worthwhile with my life other than wasting away in this barren desert of darkness trying to save the lives of the doomed."

"You always did know how to pull that guilt trip just right."

"Gotta have one talent."

"Well, here we go. Listen up!" Kirk called the attention of Uhura, Sulu, Chekov, and Spock, already having earned the rapt attention of Bones. "We're going to head down to this planet and poke our heads around, see what we find. Get in clusters of three to search and conquer. In two hours, you will report back to the landing zone. Got it?" Jumbled nods and a "Yez, Keptin!" replied.

"Let's git r' done!" Kirk punched his hand into to the air! He jerked his head to the others, urging them to enthusiastically throw their hands up, knuckle to knuckle, united one for all! An awkward pause ensued; Uhura stood with her hands on her hips "_He so has no idea what he is doing", _Sulu intently watching Kirk's hand, waiting for something to happen, Spock raising an eyebrow, deep in thought. Finally, Chekov bumped his forehead against Kirk's fist and yelped, "Hizzah Molkov!" and spinning quickly in a small circle clapping.

"Good enough for me!" Kirk clapped Pavel on the shoulder and cheekily grinned at Uhura. She grimaced. He smiled faintly in sympathy. He knew all too well what it was to lose yourself in the bottle. He looked to Spock's expressionless face and felt angry. Why would as strong willed and passionate a woman as Uhura choose to love such an impassive man?


	5. INFECTED

Bones awkwardly held up a small metallic box, which was steadily spewing out annoying beeps. He swung it back and forth, testing the air density, the levels of nitrogen and other dangerous chemicals. Chekov happily jogged ahead, eyes wide in wonder over each crack in the purple rocks and every spurt of air thrust out of pockets in the earth. Sulu haughtily huffed, he had been sent out solo. Rhyming is just friggin' hilarious;

"_Alright, one guy…fine, or GIRL" Uhura had raised her eyebrows, indignant, "is going to need to go alone to the cave five kilometers to the east. Its capacity can tolerate only the mass of one human. OR VULCAN! You guys are so touchy." Spock quirked his eyebrow, offended to have his race left out. Kirk had a way of offending nearly everyone in a room. Sulu smirked. Seeing as Pavel and himself were buddies, he knew he had a pal. No last kid picked situation for him. _

"_Hmmm…..any volunteers?" Uhura ground her heel into the dirt, Spock stood ramrod straight, eyes forward, Chekov hummed to himself, Bones ignored him completely, fiddling, tweaking the seemingly useless box, and Sulu whistled. _

"_Alrightie, then." Kirk cocked his head. "I'm thinking of a number one through ten." Universal sighs were exhaled in unison. The core bridge crew had been through Kirk's indecisive shenanigans countless times._

"_Captain, respectfully I urge you to simply make choice." Spock listlessly told Kirk. Kirk pouted._

"_Our oxygen won't wait forever." Sulu pointed out. Kirk mechanically turned to face Sulu._

"_You want to be sassy, huh? Well, well, well. Solo sounds like Sulu. Solo Sulu, your flying solo." Kirk giggled. That just sounded silly. His wise crack was received with blank stares. "Your on your own! Scram!" It wasn't that he wasn't funny, he was just misunderstood!_

So Sulu was now entering a dark and creepy cave alone. Pavel was probably picking space daisies and mindlessly enjoying himself. Damn him. How did that Russian kid come by such great luck? Sure, his parents had been struck down by a stray meteorite shower, but what was life, what was truth without hardship? He often found himself in awe of the young Ensign. He radiated the picture of bliss and yet, he was so profoundly dealt a cruel hand. He cared deeply for the kid.

A slow growl rolled through the cave. Sulu whipped his phaser out lickety split, set to kill. Why risk his life? He had always been cautious.

Crouching low to the ground, he stalked deeper into the heart of the cave, waiting for the tremor of a roar to reach his ears.

Silence was the only greeting he got. He paused, suspicious. He darted behind a nearby rock formation and waited….

***

"Bones."

"What."

"Bones!"

"What!"

"Can you hear me?"

"Obviously Jim."

"Oh, I hear you!" Bones wanted to crunch the communication links into smithereens. Or shut it off. Or tape Jim's mouth shut. One of the above.

"Mother of God."

"I think I love her."

"I take it you are referring to the woman you indiscreetly ogle dozens of times in a day."

"It's obvious?!"

"Not hard to miss."

"What do I do?"

"You do nothing. Spock already wants to strangle you. No joke." Bones chuckled and Jim spun around, delayed by the ill form fitting space suit, to glare at him.

"Don't even joke about that! I can't even bleach the pee out of my undies I was so terrified!" Kirk's eyes became wistful and he thoughtfully looked out into space. "My life flashed before my eyes Bones. All of it. What if I had never been born? Do you ever wonder, Bones? Just sit there, and…wonder? About the origins of life? How we came to be here?" Kirk trailed off. Bones stared at him incredulously.

"What the hell are you babbling about!" He swatted Kirk's bulbous space hat. Kirk snapped out of his reverie and turned to swat Bones right back. Bones raised his eyebrows and pointed the metal beeper box straight at Kirk.

"Don't make me use this!"

"I dare you!"

Bone began chasing Kirk in a circle, flailing his arms stupidly, trying to strike Kirk who was tearing away from him. Uhura's voice joined their com link.

"I thought I might remind you that we have work to do." They stopped dead. "And, that your communication can be heard by every officer on the planet. Uhura, out."

Kirk met Bones eyes. He was the picture of mortification.

***

Uhura and Spock were mildly interested by the deep crevasse in the earth they had discovered. Standing at the lip of the drop off, Uhura brushed her arm against Spock's.

"You are very important to me."

"Need I respond in kind?"

"No, I can feel your love."

"We have a task to accomplish. But I would heartily agree to continue this conversation in my quarters after the completion of our shift. I am eager to understand your actions earlier." Nyota smiled and nodded. She didn't want to rehash. She would defiantly find a way to distract him; did Vulcans appreciate lingerie?

Just as Uhura opened her mouth to address Spock, a miniscule occurrence changed the course of her life. A teeny shard of space rock native to the planet disconnected from the cliff. It flew up and found a pulse. It launched itself quicker than detectable and penetrated glass.

Specifically, Uhura's space helmet. A hole smaller than visible to the naked eye began ripping the air from her helmet. She fell to her knees, clutching her neck. She gasped for breath, eyes bulging, hacking, coughing. She could feel nothing but the bleak nothingness she was inhaling.

Spock panicked. Then he calmed himself, realizing the seriousness of what was going. The dull throb of his heartbeat sounded in his sensitive ears. What was the protocol? He unzipped his coat, kneeling before his lover. He fumbled for the clasp to the kit, and got it open. He removed the adhesive and sealed over the crack, finding it by running his finger rapidly over the helmet before finding the pull of the hole. He then grabbed her oxygen tube and plugged it in next to his, sharing his air.

Uhura inhaled a deep drag of air and fell face first into Spock. She breathed and sobbed and choked, so near death and so happy to have lived.

Spock was in shock. Nyota had been on the doorstep of death.

She tried to push herself up, but instead fell into unconsciousness.

Spock dialed for his teammates, and waited for help, cradling Nyota.

***

God damn, Sulu hated caves. Why did sinister things happen in caves? He had heard no other growls. He'd been waiting fifteen minutes when he had heard Spock call for all officers to report to a coordinate programmed to their suits. It had sounded urgent. Telling himself he'd heard something, he tiptoed out from behind his hiding spot. He kept his phaser out, set to stun, just in case. He'd nearly exited the cave when, again, he heard a growl.

From directly behind him.

He felt the growl and the accompanying puff of air on his neck. Every hair on his body frizzed out, as if electrocuted. Here he was, twenty two, nothing accomplished yet, all his life goals unfulfilled, and some hungry cave dwelling motherfucker was gonna take him out?

Shit. Life sucked.

"Heelo! I scared you, yez?" Chekov giggled. Sulu spun around, fire nearly exploding from his eyes.

"WERE YOU GROWLING AT ME!" Chekov shrugged and pretended to examine his cuticles.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Ve shall neever know." Pavel sauntered out, pleased. Sulu's jaw nearly touched the dirt.

***

Everyone reached Uhura and Spock at nearly the same time. Kirk had been horrified, as had Bones, both dropping like flies in order to better examine their fallen woman. Spock stood up and stepped away, utterly silent.

"We need to get her back, NOW!" Bones ordered. Pavel scurried forward to help carry Uhura and they hurried back.

Spock trailed behind. Kirk approached him.

"What happened!?" He gleaned no response from Spock. He had not appeared to have even heard Kirk. He repeated his question. Again, no response. He dared to shake Spock by the shoulder.

Lightening quick, Spock maneuvered his arm around to catch Jim by the wrist and flipping him down, eyes narrowed, breathing heavily. Almost instantaneously, he bent to help pick him up again. Kirk was confused. What just happened. He'd been standing, laying, and then standing, with a slight ache in his back and wrist, and all quicker than he'd been able to register. That was scary power.

"I apologize. I am deeply emotionally compromised and must request to be removed from the line of duty for a few hours."

"I understand?" Kirk's head could not seem to wrap around what was happening. Uhura unconscious. Attacked by his first officer. What was the world coming too?

And, unknown to all, along with the vacuum of space and the suction effect brought with it, the small mite of space rock had lodged itself deep in Nyota's neck, releasing a bacteria into her bloodstream. As she peacefully enjoyed her oxygen, a virus begain infiltrating her body, her mind, and when she awoke, her actions.

A/N **Well, what did you think? Wish it was longer, but I was going away and I didn't wanna make you all wait a week! Did you enjoy it? Please, allow me to revel in your opinions! The greatest insult is an alert, but no review!**

**And Kendra, you will receive a lengthy gratitude reply when I return! AS WELL AS EVERYONE ELSE, NO WORRIES! I didn't forget you blackandtandogs! And TalesfromtheSpockside, I am deep in the heart of a fantastically sexy story of yours. Great stuff.**


	6. UNEXPECTED AFFECTION

**Listen to Alpha Beta Gaga by Air, Short Fuse by the Black Lips, Daydream in Blue by I Monster, Lovegame by Lady Gaga and House of the Rising Sun by the Grateful Dead to enjoy to its upmost potency. **

"Everything is completely normal, Captain. There are no lasting effects other than a dry throat and minimal lung damage, from which she will recover within three days. I plan on keeping her sedated for another four hours. She is on medication fighting any possible space bugs. She will be fine." Kirk smiled in relief and collapsed into a chair. He allowed his head to fall back against the wall and breathed deeply. _In, out, in out._ The steady flow of oxygen steadied his nerves. The intake, outtake of air also brought up images of Uhura's mouth, of the gasping, scratchy sounds of her throat sucking down nothing which had been transmitted through everyone's com links, of her wild eyed terror. He briefly wondered what space tasted like. When it was appropriate, he would ask Uhura. He smiled slightly as his mind played out the scenario;

"_So, did space taste like chicken?"_

"………"

"_Too soon?"_

Bones also collapsed into a chair. Holy hell, what a day. After Uhura had been stabilized, he had allowed himself to become delightfully morbid. McCoy had always been fond of wallowing, moping, lapping up puddles of his own self-pity. He built and destroyed his own comfort zone, loving the feeling of being trapped in hopelessness. Oddly enough, he found that drowning himself in bleak dreariness merely reinvigorated him, filled him with a renewed sense of vigor and desire to go on. In order to live fully, he had to know the very bottom of it all.

While, this was nowhere near the bottom, it was giving him the chance to burrow his teeth into a new spectrum of dissatisfaction with the world and the innocent people it tore down. Lieutenant Uhura being one of these innocents. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand and was suddenly angry, wanted to beat something, to feel his fist connecting with a blunt object. Shit. Shit. How could this happen? Uhura had been there for the second divorce, all those long drunken nights of whining and crying.

Nurse Chapel noticed Doctor McCoy slumping deeper in his chair and furrowing his eyes, legs splaying open, relaxed but also tense and she frowned. His work efficiency unfailingly decreased when he fell into a rut. Which happened often. There were many things she revered and respected in her Chief medical officer, yet she was often frustrated with his childish antics. "Just reminds me why I could never love him." There was often a sexual pull between the two of them. The long hours spent cooped up in the med bay with zero patients and a deck of cards had brought them together.

"_One round. All or nothing. High stakes."_

"_And what will we be staking, Doctor McCoy." He liked it when she playfully rolled his professional name off her tongue. It was incredibly sexy._

"_I have something in mind." Chapel quirked an eyebrow and smiled. Footsteps pattered past the med bay and they both turned to see if they would request their call to attention. They did not, so they slouched back into their seats again._

"_Would this ingenious idea of yours have anything to do with the removal of Starfleet uniforms?" Bones let out a clipped laugh._

"_Get your mind out of the gutter, lady!" Chapel laughed, throwing her head back. Bones eyed her neck, the skin where her earlobe descended into a curved crescent skirting her back. _

"_Well, what's your prize winning idea."_

"_Winner takes all."_

"_All of WHAT!" Bones didn't answer for a beat._

"_You make your own terms. Beat me and do what you want. Same goes for me." Chapel tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. Bones sat back, arms folded behind his head, the picture of foolhardy cockiness. She would beat him. _

"_What are your conditions." She asked. Bones ran his eyes suggestively up and down her frame. _

"_It's a…surprise." Did he lick his lips during that hesitation? Maybe she was digging her own grave, shovelful by painstaking shovelful._

"_Deal." They shook hands. Bones dealt the cards. And seconds later they were asked to report for duty. They exhaled, frustrated. _

"_God damn." Leonard muttered._

_They stood. The sexual innuendo masquerading as a card game had caused both medical officers to wish to find the nearest supply closet and just get it over with, anything to alleviate the palpable desire forever present in the air._

_Instead, they reported for work._

Today, however, Chapel knew better than to disrupt his negative thoughts. You had to just let him detox once in a while, rid his mind of the thoughts that caused him so much grief. She passed by him and paused. He paid her no mind. She flitted the pad of her thumb over his hand. He turned to look at her, surprised. She smiled reassuringly, "_It will be alright_."

Bones stood abruptly.

"Nurse Chapel, may I have a word with you outside."

"Yes, Doctor." They went into his office. The moment the door slid shut, Bones consumed her. His hands caressed her back, her hips, brushed her hair away. She, in turn pressed herself against him, violent, rough, and he pulled back.

"No. Like this." He murmured huskily. And he slowly kissed her, tasted her, experienced her in the way one might sample fine wine. He slipped his fingers beneath her uniform and ran his fingers across her back, igniting a shiver. She trembled in anticipation. He was so gentle, so delicate with each act. He removed his hand from its compromising position and placed both hands on each side of her head, kissing her forehead.

"Pretty girl." He said affectionately.

"Cold hearted bastard."

They exited satisfied. The stress had been alleviated somewhat.

Chekov enters the med bay. He solemnly approaches Uhura's bed, head hanging low. He pulls up a chair. He sits down. He tenderly takes her hand and lightly kisses it, then touches his forehead to the tops of her knuckles.

"My dearezt friend. I vas terrified ven I saw you….ven I heard you having no air today. I beliefed you vould die. I said in my head, "Zis woman has been a mother, a sister, a best friend. Vat vould Starfleet do vizout her?" Chekov pauses. His eyes are misty. Everyone in the room is incredibly moved. Silence. Beautiful, comfortable, true silence. "I pray for your health, Nyota. I pray for you and do not be long gone from us please." He nods and hugs Nyota's limp frame.

Kirk is speechless in the doorframe. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he is fucking elated! NYOTA! Her name thunders itself around in his brain, bouncing off the cerebral cortex and shooting electrical bolts into the adrenaline glands. He had a name. Her name. He was ecstatic. Oh boy, he would gently give her hell when she woke up. He'd do his best to keep it private, as he knew she'd want him too, but golly gee, he was just so excited! He saluted to Chekov who greeted him with a confused pout.

Kirk couldn't help himself.

"YEEESSSSSSSS!!!!!!! YES YES YES YES! SUCCESS, OH SWEET LORD!" Footsteps drum loudly down the hallway.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT!" Scotty stormed in. "Jesus chroist, I'm just trying' to fix these damn boosters you mucked up in the last mission and the whole damn ship can hear ya yelping'. Cool it, alright?" He raises his eyebrows, awaiting an apology or at least an agreement. Kirk looks to the floor, as if being reprimanded by a particularly cruel teacher.

"Yes, Scotty."

"Thank you very much. How is she doin'?"

"Stabilized." Sulu pipes in. He has been quietly sitting near the foot of Nyota's bed. He has a PPAD and has been fruitlessly researching the planet rock found embedded in Nyota's neck. So far, it appears normal. Just dirt compacted. He meets Scotty's gaze. "She should be awake and up within a few hours." Sulu didn't do well with emotional conflict. He busied himself. He struggled openly with acknowledging attachment to anyone. Considering Ensign a pal was already a challenge. He just did not like being bound by the unassumed rules. _Eat lunch together, pat each other back when they do well, wipe the tears when they cry, ect ect. _It seemed lame and pointless and frankly tiring. He enjoyed the company of others, don't get him wrong. But at the end of the day, he likes to be committed to one person; Sulu. Solo Sulu. How right the captain had been.

Sulu stood and walked stiffly over to Uhura's bed.

He began to awkwardly pat her hand. "There. There." Then he went back and sat down. Chekov laughed.

"What?" Sulu asked.

"You crack me up like nutshell!" Sulu smiled and motioned for the young man to sit next to him. When he did he threw an arm around him.

"Kid, you crack me up like a nutcracker, too."

Nyota lifted her heavy lids open. She couldn't speak, she couldn't hear, she was blind. Her eyes were open yet her vision was failing. She felt panic bubble somewhere inside of her, but it was drowned out by the _other_. Yes, the other presence inside of her. Her eyes were open and she was now in a sitting position and still, she was conscious of nothing. Her anxiety heightened again and again it was quelled by the other being. Her thoughts began to clarify. She could see clearly and slowly words began registering.

"Let us take your vitals and then you'll be good to go!"

"I vas so vorried, seester!"

"Glad to have you back, Ny…" She opened her mouth to yelp in protest, to protect her name from spilling out into the open air of the medbay. She found that her mouth did open, but the words that escaped were not her own.

"Captain, I am very impressed with your ability to look my name up in the files." Oh god! Her voice was sugary, coated with a flirtatious tone while still having a teasing edge. Kirk picked up on the tone. For some odd reason, he felt uncomfortable rather than pleased.

"Yeah…you know me. Always resourceful. Word of mouth is my preferred research tool." A giggly laugh rocketed out of her mouth. She went to clasp her hands over her mouth in horror but found that she had no control over them either. Kirk laughed awkwardly, and rubbed his neck. Something weird was up with Nyota. He grinned at the thought that he could forever use her first name in his thoughts… Ah, bliss.

"Ok, I am issuing a mandatory 24 hour rest period, in effect now and applying to all crew members. We all need some rest. Except you, Scotty. Work into the night. Captain Kirk, out." After addressing his lovely crew, Kirk decided to hit the hay. No drinking, no girls, just rest. The Uhura drama had truly drained him. Whenever a crew member, specifically his core bridge group, were wounded or sick, he became encumbered in dark thoughts. Thoughts of them dying, of it being his fault, even sometimes he dreamt of killing them himself. That was only once but it stayed with him even now.

He decided to check on Spock.

He never made it.

AHH! Well, in the next chapter Nyota is going to behave stranger and become slightly…promiscuous.

Not sure where I'm going with this, but I like the ride. I bet you do too. And  
I highly suggest, if you're looking for some not so light reading, checking out Descartes Error by .net/s/5147894/1/Descartes_Error.

The new chapter is up and running and will be up soon! Watched Star Trek for the fifth time yesterday. God, Spock is attractive.  
I am warming up to Kirk. You might be able to tell as Nyota is becoming more and more conflicted. REVIEW and please, enjoy as always.


	7. HE DOESNT KNOW ITS ME

**Sorry for the delay! Listen to DVNO by JUSTICE to get the feeling.**

"Sorry Spock, I'll catch up with you in a couple hours." Kirk muttered.

Jim carried himself hurriedly down the halls, nodding to the other cadets retiring for the rest period as they drew themselves up to attention, flippantly saluting a returned greeting. He walked quickly, hoping to avoid confrontation. More than anything, he desired to reach his sanctuary, his holy place; a comfy bed was the only religion he bought into it. The feeling of falling face first into the wonderful, plushy abyss of his worn mattress turned him the fuck on.

He allowed the wall to suck away his DNA and awarded him with entry. He shuffled in, breathing the scent of space rooms. A mixture of warm metal and coffee.

"Smells so fucking good." He murmured to himself, shucking his shoes off and pulling his yellow uniform over his head.

"Shit." He muttered darkly. A zipper on the inside of the Captain's shirt by design, fucking useless by the way as it could probably fit maybe a small chap stick tube and never failed to rip tufts of his hair out in the hasty removal of his clothing, had of course caught his sandy locks in a grid lock of misery. His fingers fumbled to free himself and promptly he gave up. He let the shirt cover his head like a super cool head bag and felt his way over to the kitchen, looking for his magnetic scissors. He considered just falling asleep with the damn thing on his head. He took a step towards the bedroom.

"Greoow."

He paused, every nerve on end, limbs stiff and reactive. He did not turn around. He sauntered forward casually, knocking a chair with his knee ("Ah!), ears pricked, awaiting the certain touch from behind. He reached the bed and nothing had popped out at him, teeth dripping and bloody claws ripping him to bits. After that stint in Delta Vega he had an unnatural fear of monsters. Yes, the captain of the U.S.S Enterprise was scared of lurkers under his bed. "So sue me." he thought.

He sat down, nearly missing the bed and sliding off. He hurriedly snatched his legs up on the bed, breath accelerating as his fear reached a crescendo. He calmed himself and discredited his fear, promising himself that the growl he had heard was simply his foot scuffing the floor, which makes perfect sense, right? Now clumsily trying to just rip the damn shirt off his head.

And then hands. Fucking unexpected hands touched him and he went ballistic.

- -

Spock had hovered over Nyota for at least five hours, nodding in and out until Nurse Chapel had booted him out. She had cocked her head as she took in his slumped figure, head resting on hands upon Nyota's med bed. So human this action looked to her, she felt overwhelmed by something. Her heart had filled. She had never laid her eyes upon their stoic Commander in such a tender pose. She sent him away.

He had walked to his housing, taking an extra nine seconds to do this. He felt bone dead. He was tired. He was confused. He wanted answers. He wanted to go back in time. He wanted to make love to his woman. Instead he made a cup of tea and sat down. The best thing he could do now was completely devote himself to uncovering exactly what it was that had entered Uhura's body. He knew nothing of the planet's atmosphere. He should never have allowed her on the planet. "You are not the boss of me, _Commander, _I can take care of any beast on that planet. Do not let illogical feelings of protectiveness restrict Starfleet's ability to discover new life." She might say, leaning in, affronted. He sighed and allowed his head to sink into his hands.

He began to brood.

***

Uhura confidently took over the entire hall. Crewmembers stopped in their tracks and it was definitely _not _to come to attention. She would grant them coy smiles, wiggling her fingers under her chin in a flirtatious greeting. They would gape, openly gape.

"Is she wearing…"

"She is."

"Is that legal?"

"Should we call someone?"

"No. I am loving this transformation. She's **smoking**!" Uhura heard all this with sharpened ears. She could see better, she was stronger, and goddamn she was resilient!

Uhura sobbed inside. She had inkling where this possession was taking her and why. Whatever had made itself at home in her body was too busy reveling in the attention of the male, and even…oh god…female cadets passing her to realize Uhura was wriggling her foot into the door of the _others _mind. She caught glimpses of thoughts, all moving quickly and in a language incredibly calculating and beautiful, enticing her even with words. Everything about this being screamed, "HAVE YOUR WAY WITH ME! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!" She could not catch a name or a place of origin. Mixed in with thoughts of sex was "Vulcan" and "for too long". This flickered in her brain for mere seconds before "arouse" once again took over. It seemed it did not matter if it was Spock she found first, but nevertheless her legs carried her to his door.

As her hand rose to request access Nyota decided to try a new tactic.

Reaching out.

_Who are you? _She pushed this thought as forcefully as possible through the crack of the mind barrier between them as possible. She did not know if she heard it, then, her hand paused in front of the code box. It slowly lowered. Uhura's body sighed.

_What do you want girl. _Uhura was shocked.

_You speak Swahili! _Even in this dire situation, she found herself fascinated by language.

_I speak all languages._

_What is your name?_

_I will bless you with an answer. Khalil._

_How are you in my body like this?_

_You were convenient. I heard your pulse first._

_I can't control myself._

_Obviously. _Nyota barked angrily.

_Well, get out._

_Impossible._

_What!_

_I have a task I must now finish._

_Hold up! Don't you dare go in there!_

_What is the problem. He is your mate, isn't he? _Uhura could not believe she was conversing with herself, an alien, in such a controlled and girly manner. She was pissed but thought keeping a positivish relationship with this space bitch might help her chances, so she kept her mouth shut.

_You are not me! Spock will know the difference. Please, give me my own mind control back. We can find you a suitable body to sustain you until we understand what you need. Please! _She was begging, desperate. She would not be able to stand what was imminent.

_Thank you for the name of my next conquest. Now shut up._

Nyota screamed and yelled into the great empty divide of her own head, but that wall was raised again and she was favored only by silence. Khalil rang the bell. Nyota could not close her eyes. She saw Spock's expression, revealing his emotions show to this stranger, not herself. She saw relief and concern. Her hands reached out for him and this time he pulled her to him roughly, stroking her hair and shuddering.

"Nyota, you nearly died in front of me." His pain reflected his past sorrow to the loss of his mother. Nyota gasped, she had grazed against Khalil's desire and it had struck her hard. Her need was bottomless and insatiable.

Nyota tried to stop listening to Spock and began to focus on loopholes in the mind control. She found a small pocket from which she could feel and occasionally hear Khalil. As she listened to her chatter, she found she could wedge open the pocket slightly, sure by an impossibly small amount, but nonetheless it was possible. The small problem was that her mind was unbelievably exhausted from even accomplishing that.

Nyota was hopeful. If she could open Khalil's mind little, by little, maybe she could drive her out!

"I have desired you since I awoke, my beloved." She purred. Nyota snapped back to the conversation. Spock's eyes widened. He smiled a small smile.

"Are you not fatigued after the events of today." Nyota felt sick.

"Not in the slightest." Khalil murmured lowly as she drew closer to him. He raised his hands to meld with her and she snapped away as if stung. Spock looked surprised. Nyota laughed. Yes, Spock! Look in and see what you find.

"Is something wrong?"

"Of course not. Let us make love, first, and then touch minds. I believe the exertion of telepathy will exhaust me from…other activities." Bitch! That was logical!

Spock still looked uncertain until Khalil placed a small, brown hand on his wrist and drew him forward. She kissed him roughly, without delicacy and Nyota knew Spock would realize. She never kissed him like that, not at the beginning of the night anyway. Spock did not do as she had suspected.

Nyota felt herself being stabbed over and over again as Spock responded greatly to the rough passion and pushed her against the wall.

"I do not know what has "gotten into you" Nyota, but I am eager to reciprocate."

"The only thing I want getting into me is you." She purred. Spock pulled her skirt up and bunched it at her waist, kissing her breasts. Khalil reached to pull down his pants and they fell around his socked feet. Nyota felt like vomiting. Her mind was in chaos, it was a wreck, HOW COULD SPOCK NOT REALIZE THIS FAKE WAS NOT HER! Did he know her! She had never in her life uttered such a cheesy line in her life. Spock LIKED this kinky foreplay! God!

Uhura attempted to tune out, praying to whatever God there was that he would send a revelation to Doctor Leonard McCoy.

"Oh yes!" Uhura yipped as Spock ripped her underwear apart.

Nyota cringed and died a little inside. What if she never escaped this hell?

***

Kirk thrashed his hands wildly to attempt to stun his attacker, so he could blindly run for the door. He hit something, a forehead!, and successfully elicited a cry of pain. That cry of pain sounded familiar.

"God_damn _it, Jim! What the hell was that for!"

"Bones! Oh my god, I am so glad your here!" Still blind, Jim tried to throw his hands around Bones in a hug, but miscalculated and planted his arms around his waist, at crotch line.

"Uhh." Bones swallowed uncomfortably. "I don't know how to say this, but your face is dangerously close to my penis." Kirk jumped back and blushed,

"Well, that's awkward….Heh, heh. Accidental, I swear."

"Forget it, man. Why did you just try an' swipe my damn head off! I was only tryin' to help."

"I…" _was scared to death of imaginary monsters under my bed and thought you had come to collect my teeth for monster experimentation and was just trying to save my own life, "_was just surprised."

"I'll buy that. On a more important note, did you notice something was up with Uhura?"

"Now that you mention it, I think she is succumbing to my charms." He sighed happily.

"No. Not even if hell froze over would that woman give you a second look."

"Bones!" Jim gasped, scandalized.

"We both know it's true so calm down. She was actin' real strange after that thing today. Something ain't right. I need your permission to admit her."

"If something was wrong, she would tell us. You know that. She's strong and annoyingly independent."

"Jim-"

"Get this zipper out and go away." Bones grumbled to himself and then the room was silent.

"Bones?"

"….."

"BONES!"

"………."

"Did you leave?"

"….."

"If you don't answer I'm going to assume your gone."

"….."

"Asshole!"

He flopped back.

"Lights at 0% capacity." The room dimmed until it was pitch dark.

"Best friends always abandoning you when you most need them."

*****

"Leo, iz something wrong?" Chekov bounced in step alongside Bones.

" It's McCoy and yeah kid, I don't know what but there is something very wrong."

"Vere are you going?"

"The hobgoblin's cave."

"Can I heelp!" Sulu rolled his eyes from the other side of Bones. They took the hall, the three of them and Sulu felt great. He liked walking in groups like this, protected by the company of others.

"Chekov, let's grab something to eat. The doctorman is obviously on a mission. Top secret, I got your back." Sulu saluted to Bones and he emitted a low chuckle. He stopped and turned. He clapped them on the shoulder.

"Wish me luck." Then briskly stalked away. Chekov cocked his head.

"I have no tired." Chekov told Sulu.

"You have hungeer?" Sulu mocked him and Chekov playfully shoved him.

"You are bad friend."

"Nah, I'm the best friend you ever had."

"Vanna meet girls in the bar?"

"I'm not carting you home again."

"Let us go and take over the whole sheep! Aye!"

"Fine." Sulu caved and Chekov threw his arm over his shoulders and they walked towards the Watering Hole. Sulu loved friendship despite his savvy wit, and this moment exhilarated him in the way those moments of truly living do.

***

Bones pressed the request button at Spock's door. He heard rumbling inside and no one answered. He waited, he heard a great crash and a husky voice. **Access Denied **he was informed.

Something was definitely not right here.

**Did you enjoy? What are your thoughts! I suck at updating. Hopefully this lives up. **


	8. JILTED

"Hey! I can hear you two so open the goddamn door!" Bones was impatient. Honestly, he had better and obviously much more important things to do than lurk outside this green-blooded, arrogant, pissy man's door. Things like Christine Chapel, for example. He rang again, jabbing the ringer several times. Now he heard a glass crash to the floor and finally, thank god, the emotive response button glowed green rather than red. The door slip open to reveal a ruffled and green-faced Vulcan.

"Yes?" McCoy noticed he appeared to be breathing heavily. He leaned leisurely against the doorframe. His eyes took in the scene before him. Spock had attempted to hide the shattered glass by stepping on it.

"Come, I've got something I need to run by you." He nodded his head to the table, which due to the activity of Mr. Spock and Lieutenant had been added to the carnage of passion. A leg had been broken off.

"Perhaps it would suit you if we communicated in the cafeteria. As you can see, my quarters are not in an orderly state."

"Did a bomb go off in here?" He joked. Spock paused and with an emotionless expression, motioned with his hand for Leonard to exit.

"I tripped entering and knocked the table and the glass." Spock offered simply. McCoy observed the wild glint in his First Officer's eyes and smirked. He commended that self-control. Perhaps he deserved more credit than he gave him.

He decided not to remark on the ripped underwear adorning his carpet.

***

Nyota would have gotten down on one knee and vivaciously praised Jesus if she could. She could feel Khalil's simmering frustration. Uncharacteristically, Spock had ignored the door chime to continue with his mouth what his hands had begun. But the second, and the third chime finally tore him away.

"Please, my beloved, enter my private room." He had huskily whispered in Vulcan. She had ignored him and snaked her needy arms around his waist. Nyota cringed. Great, so Spock would get it into his logical and psychoanalyzing mind that she was a clingy girl with an overdriven libido who couldn't understand directions. Not that she appreciated being treated like the mistress being hidden in the closet. If she had her voice, she would have greeted their visitor with a smile, swagger, and hand on her hip.

Apparently, Khalil disapproved of their treatment as well. She huffed (HUFFED! UGH! SLUT!) And with a sway of her hips, Spock's eyes glued, she sashayed into the bedroom, slipping her skirt off as she moved. She caught his stare and winked.

"Don't be long." She tapped a button and the door blocked her from view.

Spock was freaking out. For a Vulcan that meant faster breathing and more blinks per second. To the untrained eye these were the points one could pick up. But in his mind, oh god in his mind, he was sweating and aroused and desperate to get rid of the person at his door. "_His Nyota, his goddess" _and he slid open the door, straightening his jacket and crunching down on a broken glass.

The doctor. Of course. It would be the gruff man who interrupted his moment of fantasy. Spock often found himself frustrated, but never truly angry. He was angry. His relationship with this man was ill defined and shaky. How dare he obnoxiously ring his doorbell several times. Would it not indicate business if a resident did not answer upon the first call?

Spock quieted his irrational thoughts and walked side-by-side McCoy to the dining hall. As they strolled in silence, Nurse Chapel ambled past them. She seemed objectively relaxed; no one calling on her. Spock concluded she had a break. She nodded to Spock and locked eyes with McCoy for a curiously extended period of time. She did not nod to him, nor did she greet him.

Fascinating. This behavior suggested….what was it. Before Spock had the chance to analyze that bizarre behavior McCoy brought their promenade to an early finish.

"I know Uhura was just in there with you. I didn't want her to hear what I've got to tell you." Spock was intrigued.

"What is it concerning Lieutenant Uhura you intend to disclose?" Spock subconsciously inclined his head closer to McCoy, bringing a level of intimacy to their conversation.

"Have you noticed something off about her?" Nyota gripped his back tightly, tearing his skin. Rougher than usual, with less concern for him. Almost as if she desired to please only herself and Spock happened to have chanced by. He could not possibly tell the good doctor this. It was not odd enough to be dangerous.

"She does not appear to be acting any more strangely than usual." McCoy balked; did Spock just make an inadvertent joke? Spock was proud of his tease. He was adjusting. Humans still seemed surprised when he spoke, but more frequently because of the unexpected idioms and humor he slipped into conversations rather than because he had begun comparing quantum physics to the smell of summer.

He also admitted the season had different scents, something he had previously dubbed, "illogical and ridiculous." Uhura had laughed and plucked a flower, pinning it behind her ear and kissing him. _"Kiss me in December and don't try and tell me I don't taste different."_

"Well, keep an eye on her cause I don't believe that the episode on Planet X did nothing." And here McCoy lost any joke to his voice, the tenor of his tone reaching deep inside Spock. "Be careful, be vigilant, and don't turn a deaf ear cause' alien viruses are serious son of a bitches and any slight discord between the Uhura who walked on the planet and the Uhura wheeled off the planet today need to be discussed. As Chief Medical Doctor aboard this ship, and as her friend, I am mandating that you tell me anything. I mean it." Spock's eyes took on a hard glint and he leaned back.

"Understood." McCoy, satisfied that he had made his point, stepped back.

"As you were." Spock nodded and walked away. This time it was McCoy who was left with a bad taste in his mouth.

***

Khalil had paced anxiously for two minutes. Nyota was smug.

_Cant always get what you want. _She forgot about the chasm between their beings and her mind shook as if being rattled.

_Such insolence and indifference. What a cruel planet I have made my home!_

_Then why don't you LEAVE! _Nyota was firm, and when she was riled up she tended to forget the consequence of her words.

More pain ensued. Khalil allowed Nyota's body to crumple to the ground and she held her face as violet tears poured down her cheeks.

Wait.

Violet tears?! Oh please, Spock, McCoy, someone walk in here and discover me crying purple tears. That would surely point to a disturbance in her person. Droplets slipped down her chin and onto the metal floor of the bathroom. With a hiss, they melted through easily. Nyota gaped and Khalil stood up. She stalked away from the bathroom, ignoring or possibly not caring about the charred holes her sorrow had created.

_Very well, if I cannot have your Vulcan, I will find another._

She exited Spock's room and headed to the left.

***

He looked up and caught Uhura's eyes. And they were hungary….

****

**WHO IS IT! DUN DUN DUN! Please review, what are your thoughts?**


	9. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD SALVE

**I do not own House of Leaves. I suggest you all read it however. Fever, by Meiko.**

"What the hell happened!" Bones growled.

"I have no idea! One minute he was welding in quadrant four, the next he had these two holes seared through his arm!" The shaking Machinery Specialist answered. He was quaking with fear. The man with red-hot burns straight through skin and bone was his brother.

"Did you see what burned him?" Bones maneuvered the wounded man's arm into a more comfortable position, dully noting the ridiculously hot temperature of the man's skin. The man's arm was red and swollen, the skin surrounding the two perfect holes puffy.

"He's not bleeding…" Talking to himself was done out of habit. He found it helped him work more efficiently. He's struggled with ADD for quite some time, not nearly as severely as Jim, but certainly to an extent. He is often plagued with rogue thoughts and as a result, a wandering mind. It keeps him awake. He'll curse to himself and attempt to think blankness, but eventually he'll give in to yet another sleepless night and throw off his sheets to rise and fix himself a strong drink in the hope of shuteye.

"Nurse Chapel! Come here!" He twitters around the outskirt of a stretcher, adjusting its settings to the needs of-"What's his name?" "Murin Adams"- Murin's condition. Christine hurried in, pushing her nurse's cap straightly on. _"Why is it mussed in the first place!" _Bones thought, agitated.

"Help me lift him over. And back the hell up! If you want me to help the kid I need operating space. Damn it!" He swore as they knocked the kids arm on an IV and he moaned loudly. They gently placed him as comfortably as they could despite the trauma to his arm and wheeled him into the operating room.

"Look at the wounds, Doctor. No bleeding."

"Really. Because, I, being a doctor, failed to notice my patient wasn't bleedin, _Nurse._'" She gave him a withering stare.

"Don't you think there are more important things to worry about than the state of my headdress? Don't be petty, Leonard." He clucked angrily and she admonished him with a wave of her hand. He pretended to be professional.

Chapel experimentally dripped a droplet of healing salve on the burn. It fizzled and evaporated. She looked at Bones and lifted her eyebrows. "It also appears to have clotted. The blood is congealing, causing the pain and we might need to treat him for infection, but he has lost little to no blood. As if the metal, or poison possibly and most likely, was not only an inflammant but also of healing substance." Bones paused his busywork to process her words.

"A double edged sword."

This was unexpected. And probably had something to with Uhura. He whirled around and got to work.

***

After Sulu and Chekov had done all the damage possible at the bar, they drunkenly waved adieu to the beautiful, mysterious ladies of the enterprise and Chekov, for once, walked Sulu home because he himself was incapable of doing it alone.

Oh, the irony.

"See you, tomorrow Pavel, always a pleasure!" Hikaru was hanging off Chekov's shoulders like an affectionate monkey.

"You, my friend, are wery, wery drunk." Chekov laughed and gripped Sulu's arms forcefully as he weaved.

"Yes, you could probably say that." Sulu slurred, stumbling slightly. "I just want a pretty lady to love, you know?"

"I know." Pavel smiled reassuringly down at his best friend.

"I mean, c'mon! I'm a freaking pilot! Girls dig pilots! We sometimes wear…..cool goggles."

"Uh huh." Chekov chirped supportively.

"AND! And, I can fence! Awesome, right!" Pavel pulled them up next to Sulu's door panel and leaned him against the wall, still muttering forlornly to himself about, "the one who got away" or some such thing.

Americans.

"Vat ees your passcode?"

"I can't tell you! You'll be able to sneak in all sneaky like whenever you want!"

"I just vant to put you to sleep."

"Lies!"

"Please!"

"Sneaker! That's what you are!" Exasperated, Pavel dropped down onto one knee, eye level with a floor ridden Sulu and placed both hands on his friends shoulders.

"Leestin, I swear on the fencing code of…all fencing codes I vill never sneak into your room vhile ve are friends or you have permission to burn all my Russian books."

"Woaahhh. That is a serious promise. I know how you feel about that literature. Like your girlfriends." Blushing, Chekov knew he did not mean it rudely.

"Yees, it is serious." Pavel nodded his head solemnly. Sulu dramatically looked both ways in the hall to assure their privacy. Then he leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. Sighing in relief, he opened the door and they gimped their way into the room.

***

Kirk slept deeply and happily. Peaceful oblivion. He dreamt of his mother. Murmuring into the nightshirt of unconscious listeners, he apologized over and over again. His dream clouded and he could see the faces of women, beautiful women and the less fortunate women he had given the cold shoulder, and like the closing of the curtain to signal a finale, an end, they in turn turned away from him, and he saw only shoulders, the small of their backs, the nape of their necks, because he deserved no less.

He stared into the great emptiness of jilted affection, his fear, his enemy, a nightmare and awoke with a gasp. Breathing deeply, he collapsed against the pillow, the bed sheet billowing around him and he lifted his hand to catch the falling cloth.

***

"What's goin' on with my finest welder, eh? We need him down there!" Scotty burst into a somber atmosphere like a loud fart. Unwelcome. "What? What's with all the long faces?" He commented to an alien nurse with a particularly angular facial construction. She gave him a condescending glare and pointedly ignored him. He shrugged and trotted over to Bones.

"OYE!" Bones did not start or turn to him and curse. Couldn't be good when he earned _that _reaction. The pretty blond nurse pulled him aside with a delicate touch.

"He doesn't do well with being clueless. He's pretty much in his own world now." She apologized on his behalf because she understood the twists and turns, the questions without answers and the helplessness of being the finest doctor in Starfleet and not having even the slightest inkling of what was going.

"Well, please enlighten me, what's goin' on?" Scotty was worried about Murin. They'd been buddies since the fleet's training years, since their toddlerhood, to say, as engineers and Murin and his brother, Rajiv, had communicated with him even during his sentence in Delta Vega. They were named after the royal Indian princes and in a night of complete drunkenness and buffoonery, they had admitted to being royalty themselves. He could not have his princely best mate die today. That was not on his agenda, and he certainly didn't want to deal with any more friends getting hurt. It seemed to be a rising trend on the Enterprise.

"Murin isn't responding to any medical treatment. His burns have catalyzed his entire body's aging process. He is getting years older in minutes. Anything we do to try and help seems to speed it up. We can't even touch him. But believe me, we are doing all that is possible to try and solve the problem." Here she paused to rub his arm, eyes radiating comfort and ease. He liked her immediately and did find himself strangely sated. He nodded and crumpled into a chair beside Rajiv, who was cradling his head in his hands.

Scotty stood again and made his way to Murin's bed. Bones made no move until he was close enough to catch a glimpse behind the curtain when suddenly his arm shot out and he pushed him back.

"I'm sorry, medical personnel only right now. It's pretty disturbin'."

But it was too late.

Scotty had seen the grey hair and the frightening fast flash forward morph of his friends skin as it molded itself into kneaded bread folds only old age can bring. He stumbled back and brought his hand to mouth, proceeding to vomit into a trashcan near the door. Wracked with dry heaves, he began to cry as his own fear of aging and death and loss overcame him.

Aren't we all scared of growing old, shrinking into the role of whithered prune and fading from life?

***

Spock briskly took the halls as he hastily hurried to his apartment to finish what had heatedly begun twenty minutes earlier. Nyota hips bucking against him, her mouth sucking the tips of his ear as his fingers explore the crease of her firm buttocks, the feel of the cottony sheet contrasting with her satin soft skin. It was, of course, illogical for these physical interactions as they aspired neither to procreate nor eternally bond, but he had to admit it, it felt inexplicably pleasing.

He gracefully managed to greet a few cadets in the hall without alarming them at his insatiable lust. It was a great success no one died of a heart attack because he was fairly certain he had accidentally smiled at a female. The clatter of her belongings signaled she noticed but he was too intoxicated by hormones to respond or offer help.

He entered his quarters and called for Nyota. No one answered. He passed the wrecked living room and poked his head in his room, the bathroom, embarrassingly, even the closet.

He could not find her. He stood silently in the middle of the dark living room. He shifted his foot and it crunched on the glass. He did not make a move to leave, to close the door, to turn on the lights. He walked over to his couch and sat down, eyes black and fists clenched.

"Muss es sein?" He pronounced in perfect German, a tribute to the language he now knew thanks to Nyota. "Muss es sein…"

***

Chekov tucked an already snoring Sulu into his bed and tittered disapprovingly. Hikaru did not drink much but when he did, he was even more a lightweight than him! He exited his room, "Lights 0%. Alarm clock set." He skipped down the hall, waving enthusiastically to other cadets.

"Heelo!" "Hi!" "Good night!" "Vat are you doing avake! It ees sleepy time now!" He continued this way until he passed an old professor who gave him a menacing look. He did not say hello to that man. He tried to look stern and nod seriously instead. He was graced with a returned minuscule nod. He made it to his own room. He sat down on the bed with a relieved sigh.

Ah. To be alone. He stopped smiling and closed his eyes, merely breathing for two minutes. When he felt some of his stress strip away, he leaned back in his bed. He picked up his current novel, "House of Leaves", a Terran novel and extremely terrifying. The story of a Terran man, Will Navidson, who discovers something terribly wrong; their house is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. The novel is greatest piece of Earthly fiction he has ever gotten his greedy hands upon. He begins to read…..

"_To get a better idea try this: focus on these words, and whatever you do don't let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can't see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That's where it is. Right at this moment. But don't look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead, take an even deeper one. Only this time as you exhale try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it's gonna hit you, how many times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails?, don't worry, that particular detail doesn't matter, because before you have time to process that you should be __moving__, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms-you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book-you won't have time to even scream. _

_Don't look._

 _I didn't._

 _Of course I looked._

 _I looked so fucking fast I should of ended up wearing one of those neck braces for whiplash." _Chekov stopped reading and breathed deeply, exhaling slowly again. That passage was very heavy.

"Wery heawy." He said quietly, closing the book. It struck him that the thing Johnny Truant was speaking of was not really a monster, but in a garbled and indirect reference, space itself. Space, deep emptiness wanting you, wanting your life force, going for the jugular, going for the gold. He tossed the book away from the bed, suddenly very afraid.

Well, good luck sleeping now, Russian boy.

He stood abruptly and left the room, too frightened to be alone.

No one was in the halls. He needed a face. He scurried quickly down the hall, looking for a face, continually greeted with an empty corridor until he smelled something great.

"Vat ees that?!" His nose lifted and he was led willingly towards the mouthwatering aroma.

And he bumped, chest to chest, into Lieutenant Uhura.

And as he jolted her, she was jolted with two thoughts; firstly "_He looks hungry. Yum." _Which was of course Khalil and then her own, "_He looks scared."_

_***_

_**Well, not much happened here for Uhura, that is coming! Just felt I needed to give some other characters some attention. I don't like neglecting them because every character has so much life, so much vibrance! So here it is, as it is. I hope you enjoyed. Please review!**_

_**Also, "Muss es sein" means, "must it be?"**_


End file.
